


The Blame Game

by xfsista



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Partners, Aurors, F/M, Humor, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-14 23:04:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16050401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xfsista/pseuds/xfsista
Summary: Two Aurors on a stakeout. Things get heated, but neither wants to take the blame.





	The Blame Game

“When he gets back, I’m going to kill him,” Hermione mumbled under her breath darkly as she stared down from the window of the seedy inn into the even seedier alley below. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement had received an anonymous tip about an exchange with a big time illegal potions dealer that was allegedly to take place in that alley, but so far, all she had seen was a drunkard relieving himself and a deviant sexual act that she wished she could Obliviate from her brain immediately. 

She and her partner were assigned to perform surveillance and report back. Somehow, she was stuck doing the surveying while her partner was off doing only God knew what.

There were a lot of career paths people had expected her to take, but becoming an Auror wasn’t one of them. She was Hermione the bookworm who they saw as becoming a professor or librarian. Or Hermione the magical creatures activist who should be working in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures working for the rights of house-elves and centaurs. 

Those things _were_ important to her, but the war had fundamentally changed something inside of her. After being tortured and seeing her friends and mentors die at the hands of dark witches and wizards, a bit of her childhood idealism had shattered. She found a new purpose in hunting down evil so no one would ever have to go through that again.

It was strangely ironic that she was partnered with a man whose ideals had been diametrically opposed to hers, but now found himself on a similar path.

Just as the thought of her partner flitted through her brain, a suspicious looking man wearing a dark hooded cloak caught her eye in the alley. And it seemed as if he was being followed by someone with a familiar shock of white blond hair.

Hermione snatched her wand and darted out of the room.

“Damn it, Malfoy!”

***

**Twenty Minutes Later**

“Put me down!” she growled menacingly as she slapped at Malfoy’s back. He had her hoisted over his shoulder and was carrying her back up the stairs to the grimy little room at the inn.

“I wouldn’t be carrying you if you hadn’t gone and got yourself hurt,” he grumbled as he slammed the room door open and kicked it closed with his foot. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“What the hell was _I_ thinking?!” she cried indignantly. He dropped her unceremoniously onto the bed, and she looked up at him with a red, angry face. “I wasn’t the one ignoring protocol! Our assignment was surveillance and surveillance only, not to apprehend the suspect!”

“Well, I would’ve apprehended him and saved us a hell of a lot of trouble if you hadn’t come bumbling in like that oaf Hagrid at a dangerous creatures convention!”

“Oh! How dare you insult Hagrid! He has nothing to do with this! And stop trying to distract me from the fact that _you_ were the one that bungled this operation!” She waggled her finger at him and grimaced.

Malfoy sighed. “Let me look at your back,” he quietly demanded.

“No.” She tried to cross her arms, but the look on her face gave away how much pain she was in.

“Granger, you’re hurt. This is not the time for your bullheadedness.”

Reluctantly, she turned her back toward him. Malfoy hissed at the sight of her white shirt sliced and covered in dark red blood. 

“Merlin, Granger, he got you good.”

Gingerly, he sat behind her on the bed and tried to pull apart the cloth where it was split, but couldn’t get a good look at her wound.

“Take off your shirt.”

Hermione whipped her face over her shoulder and glared incredulously at him with pink cheeks.

Malfoy raised his eyebrows and fought to keep from smirking. “I’m not being funny, Granger. I can’t see to heal your back.” The corner of his mouth lifted naughtily. “Your virtue will remain intact. Auror’s promise.”

“Hmph.” Hermione rolled her eyes and faced forward again and began unbuttoning her shirt. Soon, the expanse of her back was exposed to her partner. 

The gash from what must have been a slicing hex ran from her right shoulder blade diagonally to the bottom of her ribs on her left side. Her bra was amazingly still hanging together by one tiny little hook.

Gently, he smoothed her hair to the side and over her left shoulder and began using his wand to clean and disinfect the cut. Then, slowly, he magically sealed the injury until all the skin had knitted back together.

“How does it look?” Hermione asked, a hint of vulnerability in her voice. “Will it scar?”

He dragged his fingers over the smooth skin marvelling at it’s softness. It was his job to be observant, but he had never noticed that his partner had quite lovely skin before.

“Malfoy?” she asked again looking over her shoulder.

“It’s perfect,” he answered honestly.

“Well, thank y--”

Her words were cut off by a loud noise outside the door.

“Shit!” Malfoy said. “I think he followed us!”

Grabbing Hermione, he pulled her into the room’s small closet and cast a Disillusion Charm over them and waited. He could feel the heat of her naked back under his hands and her chest expanding and contracting as she breathed against him.

They waited for several moments, but no one entered the room. At least not the room they were in. However, it did seem as if a drunken and enthusiastic pair had stumbled into the room next door. To have sex. Loud, boisterous, athletic sex.

Hermione cleared her throat.

“Malfoy?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t think that was him.”

The charm was wearing off and they could now see each other in the dim light of the closet. Malfoy was still holding her close and Hermione was still not wearing a shirt. The air was thick with tension, and he was lazily sliding his fingers up and down her spine. In the background, they could hear the thump, thump, thump of their neighbours’ bed hitting the wall.

“We could leave the closet now,” Hermione suggested.

“We could,” he agreed, his eyes flitted between her eyes and her lips.

“You’re going to break that Auror’s promise, aren’t you?”

“Well, I have been known to bend the truth on occasion,” he admitted.

“As long as you admit that it’s all your fault,” she retorted.

Malfoy smirked. “Never,” he said as he claimed her mouth.

Clumsily, they stumbled together against the closet door and nearly tripped and fell onto the floor. Somehow, Malfoy had retained enough balance to keep them upright and walked Hermione backwards until she was pressed against the wall.

“This is such a bad idea,” she muttered as he nibbled down the column of her neck.

“Absolutely terrible,” he responded dryly. His tongue licked away the salty sweat from her collar bone. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“So, are you.”

Hermione pulled at the buttons of his shirt while he flicked at the tenacious little hook barely holding her bra together. She clawed at the material when his lips closed around her nipple.

“Draco,” she moaned breathlessly and began working on the button of his trousers. He tried to guide them toward the bed without removing his mouth from her skin, but she grabbed his belt loops and held him still.

“No, no, no!” She was shaking her head fervently.

“No?” he asked with eyebrows raised and a look of slight distress on his face.

“Not there! It’s filthy!”

Draco furrowed his brows trying to follow her logic and looked around the room to find an alternative, but finding only the floor. He looked at her in askance, and she stared at him in disgust.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Well, where--?”

“The wall! Against the wall!”

Quickly, he backed her up against the wall once more and smirked down at her. “Who would’ve thought? You’re not as prudish as I thought you’d be, Granger.”

Slightly offended, Hermione suddenly wanted to show him how bold she could be. She placed her hand on his chest and slid it down his torso and into his trousers. Wrapping her fingers around his cock, she looked him right in the eye and said, “Shut up and fuck me, Malfoy.”

Draco grinned. “As you wish.”

Never taking his eyes from hers, he grabbed the front of her jeans and made quick work of the buttons before roughly pushing them down her legs along with her knickers. She kicked them off with her boots and found herself standing totally bare before him.

Still gripping his erection, she slid her hand back and forth when he slipped his fingers between her legs and found her wet and ready. With little effort, his own trousers slid to his knees. He placed his palms beneath her ass lifting her with ease and balanced her against the wall. Reaching between them, she helped guide him in as she wrapped her legs around his back.

Draco groaned. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

Slowly, he began flexing his hips back and forth watching as his cock slid in and out of her body. Soon, the pleasure began to intensify and the thrusts became more frenzied. Hermione was bouncing against the wall harder and harder, and she was certain she’d have bruises later from the chafing. 

Her sweat-soaked skin was also becoming increasingly difficult for Draco to hold up, especially as his muscles were beginning to twitch with the exertion. She wasn’t heavy by any means, but after an extended period of time and the heavy physical activity of sex, it was quickly becoming difficult.

Hermione’s orgasm took her by surprise, and she was unusually loud, a fact that she’d find slightly embarrassing later. The clenching of her muscles around him sent Draco over the edge -- and took whatever bit of energy had left.

They tumbled to the floor in a heap of limbs and sweat.

Hermione squealed. “Draco!”

“I don’t even care,” he said nonchalantly, breathing heavily. “What’s a little dirt when you’ve just had the best fuck of your life?”

“Well, if I end up with some horrible, flesh-eating disease, it’s going to be all your fault!”

“You’re the one who wanted to do it against the wall instead of just using your wand to clean the bed,” he countered.

The look on her face at the realization she had overlooked such a simple resolution was priceless. “Well… well… you distract me!”

“Fine,” he said giving her a sly look and pulling her close. “I guess I’ll take the blame after all. I’m just too irresistible and drive you to distraction.”

**Author's Note:**

> Don't mind me. Just locating more of my older stories to archive here since our beloved H&V seems forever lost. I believe this was for Dramione Duet.


End file.
